From the Diary of Ernest Nightray
by WOWZAcoolBEANS
Summary: Ernest Nightray is dead. To try to find a motive behind his beheading, Pandora investigated his diary. This is what they found. /A humorous account of Ernest Nightray's vastly interesting experience of life./
1. Introduction

**Title:** From the Diary of Ernest Nightray

**Synopsis:** Ernest Nightray is dead. To try to find a motive behind his beheading, Pandora investigated his diary. This is what they found.

**Rating: **T

**A/N**: Surprisingly, I did not have this idea while drunk. That's about all I can say for it. Also, Frank and the Pandora member won't show up much more. They're just the introduction. Hope you don't get attached to them. (Also Frank is secretly in love with the Pandora member, who is unhappily married. It's a great story. You'll never get to hear it. Ha.)

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Pandora Hearts_.

…

The Pandora member opened a trunk. It was full of silk shirts. Assholes.

"Not this one, Frank," he said to his companion at a different trunk as he ruffled through the belongings of Ernest Nightray. The silky smooth fabric that he, forced to do the grunt work of the organization without any of the glory, would never own. "Seems like this guy didn't have…" It was at that moment that the Pandora Member did the equivalent of stubbing his toe, but with his finger, and instead of something on the ground, with something wrapped up in a silken shirt. "Shit," the Pandora Member said.

"What?" Frank said, standing up and coming over to his companion. "You okay?"

"Yeah…" The Pandora member grabbed the shit and whatever was in it. "I just hurt my finger on this thing." He unwrapped whatever object was in the shirt.

It was a diary.

"Is that a diary?" Frank asked.

"No shit," the Pandora member said. It was made of leather. The guy even had a high-class diary, when he could barely afford dairy products. Then again, this guy got his head chopped off. So there were plusses and minuses to being rich.

"Well, what does it say?"

"Jesus Frank, I haven't opened it yet." The Pandora member could practically feel Frank rolling his eyes, but he didn't give much of a damn. He still had two hours before his union-mandated break, and reading some rich prat's diary seemed like a good way to start it. "But…" He did open it. "Maybe it's time to start. Let's see what it says…"

…

Case file: The Diary of Ernest Nightray

A Page of Introduction

Please do not read this journal. My name is Ernest Nightray and I am a very important person. Reading my journal could mean that you could get into very serious trouble. If you have stolen it, please return it to me. I will probably give you a reward. Like, I can give you my adopted brothers. I wouldn't mind giving them to you at all.

Please do not read on. I have very interesting things to say, but it is not your place to read them.

Sincerely,

Ernest Nightray


	2. Day 1

Case file: The Diary of Ernest Nightray

Day 1

Today I ran out of hair product.

I tried to get Hans to go into town to purchase me some hair product. He said no, and told me that he only listened to orders from Vanessa, anyway.

So I asked Vanessa to ask Hans to go into town to purchase me some hair product, under the guise that it was for her. She told me that he seemed skeptical, since she does not have as much hair as I do, and since I had asked him that morning, but he went to town and purchased me my hair product anyway.

He was quite vexed when he discovered it was for me. But I have my hair product now, and what can Hans do? I am a very clever noble and he is my sister's servant.

This has truly been a day of many accomplishments.

Sincerely,

Ernest Nightray


	3. Day 2

Case file: The Diary of Ernest Nightray

Day 2

Elliot wanted to go to the park today to take a walk. While we were there, I met a beautiful and classy young lady. After I convinced Claude and Elliot to leave, I made sure that she had none of that class left, if you understand what I'm trying to imply.

If you don't, I'll make it clear: We had sex. Very good sex.

It was a good day, overall.

I think that the hair product that Hans bought me has done wonders for its color and bounce. I feel like a new man.

Sincerely,

Ernest Nightray


	4. Day 2 Continued

Case File: Diary of Ernest Nightray

Day 2.5

Claude just told me that the woman who I knew in the Biblical sense has quite the reputation, and that I should go immediately to the doctor. I asked him what he meant by that, but he was incredibly vague about the details. There are many things to be worried about, but only one comes to mind as being an immediately terrible situation.

I dearly hope I am not pregnant.

What shame I would bring to the Nightray name if I were to be the only man in the Nightray line to sire a son from my own womb.

With greatest worry,

Ernest Nightray


	5. Day 3

Case File: Diary of Ernest Nightray

Day 3

I went to the doctor today with the greatest haste. Though I am relived to know that I am not pregnant, I was somewhat miffed at the physician for laughing at my worries. I have seen to it that he has been terminated and run from the country.

When I spoke with Claude today, it seems that his worry was not for pregnancy, but for some sort of disease. What foolishness. I am the least prone to sickness of the entire Nightray line. Why, just last week Vanessa had a cold and I did not. Catching a cold from the young woman in the park seems very foolish. It is not even flu season. (Vanessa's cold was not the flu, but I am sure that she caught it from her tutor, who I had terminated afterwards, though I still let him remain in the country.)

Today I spoke with father, as well. He did not call me a disappointment!

It was a very good day.

Sincerely,

Ernest Nightray


	6. Day 4

Case File: Diary of Ernest Nightray

Day 4

This evening I went to the ballet with Elliot, Vanessa and mother. How beautiful! Everything was tulle and gauzy—such beautiful fabrics on such lovely ladies.

If I could, I would be a ballerina. I fear, however, that it is too late for myself.

I shall strive to become a patron of the arts. This, I think, should most easily be done by having and taking care of a ballerina as a lover. This is a perfect plan. Nothing could possibly go wrong.

With greatest anticipation,

Ernest Nightray


	7. Day 5

Case File: Diary of Ernest Nightray

Day 5

My ballerina turned out to be an illegal contractor. Were it not for a wandering Pandora member, I think I should be dead. What an ugly chain, as well! Not at all becoming for such a lovely young woman. I will not, however, say that I was loathe to see the both of them dead. Her legs may have been beautiful, but to make a contract with such a chain must have meant that her soul was uglier than father on tax day.

Overall, a terrible day. I must take a bath to wash the ballerina's blood from my skin. My clothes, of course, will have to be burned.

Yours in great pain,

Ernest Nightray


	8. Day 6

Case File: Diary of Ernest Nightray

Day 6

I made eye contact with Vincent today.

It was a bad day.

Sincerely,

Ernest Nightray


	9. Day 7

Case File: Diary of Ernest Nightray

Day 7

Uncle took me today to Pandora for some reason or another—perhaps about my rouge ballerina, but who can even keep track at the end of the day?—and I must say that it was a boring time. Firstly, I must say that there are _no_ attractive women who work at Pandora. Vanessa gets all a-twitter about Lord Barma's assistant, but I cannot say that a single specimen there attracts me. To make matters worse, I had a run in with the Mad Hatter.

None of what happened after that was my fault, no matter what Father says. I was only joking with a school acquaintance of mine about the Mad Hatter's frightening red eyes and maybe doing a little impression of him to make my acquaintance laugh. It was trivial. Merely nothing. That is why I found it quite unnecessary for the Mad Hatter to sneak up behind me, lift his bangs and say, "Who said that I had two eyes?"

Oh and how my acquaintance did laugh as I screamed and fell backwards onto my behind. However, even as my cheeks blazed red, I found it necessary to uphold the honor of my family—something that Father should be _proud_ of, I do say—and challenge the Mad Hatter to a duel. Despite his reputation, he only has one eye! How was I supposed to know that it was an old injury, not a fresh one, and that it would have no effect on his performance?

Later, after Father took me home and called me a disgrace, Elliot had the nerve to say that the Mad Hatter is the best swordsman in the world. Vaguely I remember him saying—a long time ago—that the Mad Hatter was his hero, and that he would like to be like him when he grew up. I scoff at that—no matter what happens to Elliot, I know he will not be a trained killer like the Mad Hatter. His duty, honor and, above all, loyalty to the Nightray house will mean that he will never take a life without thought, as I know the Mad Hatter has done countless times.

Excuse me for the poor penmanship—a shiver crossed my spine as I wrote those words. I cannot fathom why. Perhaps I will go to bed before my injuries are joined by a cold.

Yours in humiliation,

Ernest Nightray


	10. Day 8

Case File: Diary of Ernest Nightray

Day 8

Ah. Not one, but six lovely ladies of various highborn families came to visit me today, and to express their dearest regrets that I was injured. One saucy fox even dared to say that the Mad Hatter was the greatest cad Pandora has in its employ!

Their beautiful, bouncing bosoms makes all of my deep pain seem far easier to take.

Yours truly,

Ernest Nightray


	11. Day 8 Continued

Case File: Diary of Ernest Nightray

Day 8.5

Father reprimanded me for what happened at Pandora. "The Mad Hatter isn't one to be trifled with, Ernest, and not one to make an enemy of." He droned on, half-yelling, for over an hour before he was—thankfully—called away on business. Where Father let off, Fred continued. What I do not understand is why everyone is so worried. Yes, Xerxes Break—or the Mad Hatter, if you're really that terrified of him—is an excellent fighter. But he's also the sworn dog of the Rainsworth dukedom. There's no way that he could kill a member of the Nightray family and get away with it!

Even if the Nightray family has been somewhat disgraced.

Worst of it all is that Elliot was apparently listening in to all of this, and wants some sort of revenge on the Mad Hatter. It's a bit of a shame; for a long while, the Mad Hatter was his idol. Now he's someone who picked on his older brother.

Upon rereading this entry, I've managed to depress myself. I'm sighing deeply. You just can't be party to it.

Yours in irritation,

Ernest Nightray


	12. Day 9

Case File: Diary of Ernest Nightray

Day 9

Today, to cheer myself up, I took a lovely lady friend of mine out for drinks. We were having a beautiful time until I invited her back to my place (not the Nightray estate, of course, but a secondary house that I use for delicate situations). The girl had the audacity to tell me that I shouldn't be entertaining women _in that way_ since I am injured! Needless to say, I'll have her removed from the country immediately, just as soon as I can get in touch with Father's people. And—

…

"Hey Frank," the Pandora member said, holding the diary out to his companion. "Look at this…" He gestured to the page.

"It's a giant inkblot," Frank said.

"Astute as always, Frank," the Pandora member said, rolling his eyes.

Frank sighed. "You know, I could do without the sass."

The Pandora member ignored Frank (what an asshole; when was he going to get fired? Everyone knew that he was barely competent enough for the job and only there because he was some super distant cousin of some cousin of the Reinsworths) and wondered aloud, "Maybe something happened to him. Maybe this is evidence!"

"Yeah, well, maybe you should read two lines down and see for yourself."

"Jesus Frank, what's your problem today?"

Frank rolled his eyes and continued to rummage through one of Ernest Nightray's various trunks. The Pandora member muttered, "Prick," and continued reading.)

…

Pardon the inkblot; Elliot came in and I was in a rush to shut this book. Not that I wish to shelter my younger brother completely from the joys of an older man, but I did not think that now was the time to explain to him.

Anyhow, he wished for me to listen to his latest piano composition. I did so, and I must say that for a young boy, he is quite talented. Though he won't inherit Father's titles (nor will I, actually), I am glad he was not born an eldest son. Maybe this way he can pursue his passions, rather than have to waste his life in the strained, tedious politics that his older brothers have dedicated themselves to (myself included).

Elliot is a talented boy. Sometimes I feel so proud of him that it is even easy to forget my own woes.

Sincerely,

Ernest Nightray


End file.
